A Dance of Swords
by colourful-dystopia
Summary: AU/AH Klaroline royalty fic written in the form of disconnected drabbles. Please give it a try.
1. Part 1: Twist of Fate

**Hi!**

**This is a drabble series that I started on tumblr and I thought I'd post it here as well. **

**The drabbes are not in order but will make sense eventually. Everything will fall into place. **

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Caroline walked around the large armory, her fingers trailing lightly on the shiny swords and shields. It seemed as if they had never seen a single drop of blood. She knew that was highly unlikely, seeing as they were made for a tyrant king. They sparkled like jewels when the sunlight hit them. She looked at her distorted reflection as she passed each piece of hand-crafted metal, loving the way the lines of her body bent and merged in her reflection. She picked up a long sword that caught her eye. The hilt of the sword was encrusted with thousands of tiny rubies, making it seem as if it were speckled with fresh blood. It gleamed in the sunlight that streamed into the room through the large windows. She held it up with both her hands. The blade was well crafted and sharp enough to cut through bone with ease. It certainly was fit for a king. It had the heir of royalty about it.

She turned suddenly when she heard footsteps coming toward the armory. She waited patiently for whoever it was. She knew no fear when she held the tyrant's sword in her hands. She was shocked when the tyrant himself walked through the doors a moment later. He took a moment to asses her. His face remained blank as always. She braced her shoulders and waited for him to lash out at her, knowing very well that that was what he would do. He had a reputation to uphold. His eyes landed on the majestic sword in her hands. He surprised her for the second time that day by smirking at her. The smirk turned into a smile and eventually into a hearty laugh.

She stood confused for a moment. She wondered whether this was his reaction to everything before he signed death sentences. She moved to place the sword back in its stand but he held up a hand to stop her. She froze in her spot as he moved towards her. He took the sword from her hands, the smile still on his face. She looked at him, unsure of what to do or say.

"Swords are fascinating things, aren't they?" he mused, running his fingers over the blade and the sparkling hilt. "It's intriguing how something so beautiful and magnificent can also do such horrible things." His smile hadn't faded from his face, but his eyes had a tinge of sadness in them. It disappeared instantly.

"Well," he said a moment later, his eyes devoid of sadness. "Pretty girls like you shouldn't be holding swords. You might cut yourself."

It was clear to Caroline that he enjoyed taunting her. "I know how to wield a sword, my lord. I certainly will not cut myself by accident." She was trying really hard to control her anger as it threatened to flare to new heights. She could never tolerate men who undermined women.

"Of course. My apologies, love. I should have known that the traitor would have taught his daughter how to fight." His smile was insufferable. She couldn't stand to look at him for another instant.

"I must be going," she said, curtsying halfheartedly and moving around the various cases of head-gears to reach the large, ornate door of the armory. He caught her hand as she was about to escape.

"Indulge my curiosity for a moment, Lady Caroline." He turned her around to face him. "Show me how well you can fight. I'd like to see what you can do with a sword."

"I'm afraid I cannot indulge you, my lord." She said. "There's somewhere I must be. "

"What if I make you a deal?" he said before she could slip away. "If you win, I will give you whatever you like. A large house in the country, maybe a palace, or…"

He paused for dramatic effect, taking in her expression as she shook her head and turned her head towards the window with disinterest.

"Maybe I'll give you that sword you were admiring."

That caught her attention. She whipped her head to look at him. She looked confused and interested.

"What are your conditions?" she asked, her voice so low he had barely heard it.

"If I win, you shall be my bride. We will wed in a lavish ceremony that is only fit for a king and you will not express your discomfort over the matter to anyone." His eyes bore into hers.

"I do not accept. Forgive me, your Majesty, but I don't play such games." She moved toward the door quickly, afraid of being held back again.

He chuckled to himself. "Are you so sure that you will lose, Lady Caroline? I was told you were fearless." He mocked her. He gracefully sauntered over to her as she stood frozen by the door.

"I never lose." Her pride got in the way, as always. She would have escaped if not for that.

He smiled at her. "I'll even let you use my sword." He indicated to the sword that she had been admiring. "Shall we begin?"

She picked up the sword with both hands on the hilt. He took a moment to admire her stance. She looked ethereal, to say the least. Her eyes hinted at no fear, her body as comfortable as always. She seemed confident. _Too confident_, Klaus thought.

He pulled out his sword from its sheath at his waist, held it up high and slowly walked towards her. She faced him confidently. He swung to the right. She blocked it with ease. He moved quickly and swung to the left at a different angle, she jumped out of the way in the nick of time.

The two fought for over an hour. He moved like a tiger, judging his opponent, observing them and then attacking when they least expected it. She flitted like a butterfly, gracefully dancing past his offences. She was swift, and powerful for a woman. Klaus destroyed several vases as they fought around a large, round table. He slashed his sword with such fury. His goal consumed him. He wanted her, and he would win her fair and square. She fought to prove her point. She could fight as well as any man and she needed to show him not to underestimate her.

He attacked once again, destroying a marble sculpture in the process. She danced away yet again, coming to rest when she reached the opposite end of the room from him.

He looked impressed. "You are far better than I expected, my love. Your father taught you well."

"I was taught by Sir Rudden." She informed him with pride.

"The leader of the king's guard." He mused. "You learnt from one of the best then."

"Indeed. I would suggest you concede, Your Majesty. You cannot beat me. I would not like to pierce your heart."

He lunged towards her, cornering her effectively. She deflected every one of his advances with ease. She slashed her sword and he caught it high above their heads. "I suggest you concede, my love. I didn't think it was right to attack a woman but now you are pushing you're limits. I'm losing my patience." He snarled. "I always get what I want. There's no point in fighting."

She pushed her sword into his with as much force as she could muster. He stumbled back a couple of steps. He turned around to face her but she was faster. She pointed her sword at the hilt of his and flicked her wrist. His sword clattered to the ground. She kicked it away with her foot and lifted her sword to his chin. "You're dead." She said with a smile.

She turned around and moved to the table to set her sword down. "I have no need for the sword, my lord. This victory is enough for me."

She turned around to see Klaus standing in front of her, his body pressed into hers. His hand reached out to grab hers trapping it between the table and his hips. He held a dagger in his other hand. He pressed it to her neck before she could react. She gasped and tried to break free but he was too strong for her.

"Never turn your back on your opponent unless he is dead." He whispered. " Didn't Sir Rudden ever teach you that?"

He smirked at her frightened face. His hand stroked her cheek heart soared when he noticed the faint blush that followed the path his hand had made. He picked up her hand and pressed a kiss onto her knuckles.

He turned away from her in an instant, dropping the dagger to the floor. He turned around and looked at her as he reached the door. She stood frozen by the round table, pale and afraid.

"We shall be married within a fortnight. I will have my guards watch your every move so don't even think about fleeing the kingdom. And if you do manage to run away, my love, I will hunt every person you hold dear as if they were animals."

He left the room and she collapsed onto the floor. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to wrap her mind around her fate and how drastically her fate had changed its course in the last hour.

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**xx**

**Anna**


	2. Part 2: Child's Play

**Here's the second part! **

**Thank you for all the amazing reviews! I'm so glad that you guys loved reading it as much as I loved writing it.**

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It was a winter like any other. The heavy winds blew the falling snow into the tallest towers where it lined the window sills, decoration the grey stone exterior with soft white clouds. A contrast to the strong, sharp grey stone that lined the exterior of the castle. The cold was excruciating. The workers of the castle were busy ensuring that the fires were kept burning at all hours of the day and night.

A young boy stood by the long, gothic window of the play room, his fingers pressed to the cold glass as he watched with wonder in his eyes as the snow fell from the sky. He could hear the distant voice of his mother reading a book to his younger sister and brother as they cuddled close to her by the fire, straining their necks to follow her finger as she traced the path she was reading. The boy by the window stood entranced, as if looking through a vortex into paradise. A place where he could run wild and free. Something he yearned for with every figment of his being.

His concentration was broken with the dramatic entrance of his brother, Elijah. At only 15, Elijah was every bit the regal prince the kingdom expected every one of the royal children to be. He stood dignified and tall, wise beyond his years. Something Niklaus envied.

"Niklaus," he called out in his stately voice, "father wants to see you."

Elijah looked to their mother who had stopped reading as soon as Elijah had walked into the playroom. The children looked up to him in wonderment, whilst there was some sort of cocktail brewing in the Queen's eyes. It seemed as if Elijah and she were conversing in silence. She seemed afraid and sad. Apprehensive, even. Tormented in the slightest, but tormented nonetheless. Almost as if all her fears were coming alive. A toxic cocktail of emotions.

She looked to Niklaus and urged him to move.

"Elijah, watch the children." She commanded as she rose gracefully, wrapping her thick shawl around her body. "I'll go with Niklaus."

Elijah placed his hand on Niklaus's shoulder as he made to move past him, stopping him in his tracks and forcing him to look up into his brother's eyes. What he saw there was something he didn't expect to see. Guilt.

"I'm sorry, Niklaus." He did not elaborate and Niklaus did not urge him to.

Their mother wrapped her arm around Niklaus' shoulders and pulled him gently along with her. They walk past several long, stone hallways. Their footsteps were muffled by the thick carpets of blue and gold that covered the floor. The walls were adorned with paintings and portraits of brave warriors and ancestors who had passed to a safe place. Their eyes seemed to bore on the two living souls that wordlessly walked towards their destiny.

They stopped in front of a pair of large doors that reached the ceiling in the classic gothic shape. The dark colour of the wood emphasizing the richness of the room within, clashing with the dull stone walls around it. The carvings on the door had weathered time, it's age evident in the art. Two guards stood on either side of the door, wearing the kingdom's colours and looking gauntly straight ahead.

Niklaus stood in front of the door, waiting for the guards to open them. He could hear his mother sigh deeply behind him but chose to observe the intricate patterns on the door instead.

The doors opened slowly and a rush of warmth met their bodies. The room was warmly lit. A large fire burned in the fireplace. The room itself was rounded to form a semi-circle, the walls on either side of the door being the ones that were straight. There were equally spaced long windows lining the curved wall that brightened the room. The walls on either side of the door housed books from floor to ceiling. Books of every size and colour, the spine embossed with elegant golden script that announced the title to the world. Niklaus' hands itched to the rub their spines as if they were cats, but he composed himself and faced his father.

His Royal Highness, King Mikael stood behind that large mahogany desk that was placed at one end of the room. He seemed deep in thought as he gazed out of the window, his back to his visitors. Esther Mikaelson ushered young Niklaus to one of the plush arm chairs in front of the fire, drawing Mikael's attention. He moved towards his wife and son with the grace of a king, taking a seat opposite his son, beside his wife.

Niklaus took a good look at his father, his face bathed in the light of the fire. He looked worn and tired, like he hadn't slept in weeks. His face was grim, yet his eyes were warm and kind. He looked dignified as always but Niklaus could tell that there was something bothering him. It was no secret that Mikael loved his children to death. He didn't show it the way normal parents did. He couldn't afford to. But his children were aware of their father's feelings.

"Niklaus, come here, son." Mikael called out. His son rose from his seat and walked to his father who immediately wrapped his arms around him and held him close. "I'm sorry it has come to this, son. But I have no choice. I'll do everything I can to keep you safe, I promise you that."

Niklaus looked at him confused.

"What do you speak of, father?" he asked and then looked to his mother who was silently crying to herself, her head bent at the neck. "Mother, please don't cry. Must I call for the nurse again?"

She smiled at him and his kind heart and stroked his cheek. "I'm afraid there is nothing you can do about this, Niklaus."

Mikael grasped his wife's hand and looked at his young son.

"Niklaus, you must know that Elijah has renounced his claim to the throne. That means that it now lays on you, son."

He waited for the words to sink in. He hated that it had come to this. He had wanted Niklaus to have a normal childhood, to enjoy the things that every child deserved.

Esther spoke before Niklaus could even think of a response.

"I'll speak to Elijah. He'll be good king, Mikael. Please!"

"He doesn't want it, Esther." Mikael explained. "He wants normalcy and I cannot refuse him. Elijah is too noble to rule this kingdom. I had hoped that his views would change over the years but if anything, he is more moral now than ever before. This kingdom houses some of the wildest creatures, my love, and Elijah's morals will be the death of him in the seat of power. I'm sorry, my queen, this is what it has come to."

There was sadness in his eyes as he explained. It was mirrored in the eyes of his wife. He thought back to the night Niklaus was born and how the kingdom had rejoiced at the birth of another son. None were happier than King Mikael, the valiant. The king that some believed to be a ruthless tyrant was seen by the servants with his new born son is his arms, cooing words of love that were lost in history.

"What about Finn? We could convince him." Esther broke his train of thought with her desperate plea.

"Finn would make a horrible king. He's too busy gallivanting about with that red-haired maiden. A weakness that anyone could use against him." Mikael replied immediately.

"I'll do it, father." A small voice spoke beside him. Esther burst into loud sobs at her son's words.

"Please, Mikael!" She pleaded. "He is only a boy! Don't do this to him."

"It won't happen tomorrow, Esther." He said, trying to reassure her. "He has to be trained. I'll provide him with the best training in the kingdom. He'll be strong and valiant and brave. A good king. He is my son, after all."

He looked proudly at his son who graced him with a small smile. Mikael smiled in return and hugged his son.

"You will rise at five every morning and go riding. A good warrior must know how to handle a horse." He spoke.

"Yes, father." Said the little boy, eager for it all to begin.

"Sir Rudden will teach you how to wield a sword. You will also be taught lessons by prestigious tutors and learn the ways of the kingdom."

"Yes, father." He said as he gazed fondly at his father.

"And Niklaus," he slowly grazed his cheek as he spoke, "never give up on your art."

"Never, father."

They smiled at each other fondly as their mother cried to herself. The royal family wore talented in hiding their fear. But the fear was always there. There was always a dark cloud in the horizon. A dark foreboding. The morbid truth that everyone chose to ignore for their peace of mind. It would forever haunt them.

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**I'm sorry for the lack of Klaroline in this chapter. I wanted to establish the relationship between the Mikaelson siblings and their parents and give you a little insight into the conditions of the kingdom and the trouble's they face. I'll go into detail about that sometime in the future. **

**Like I said before, this is a series of disconnected drabbles that will eventually form a complete story. I'm taking it one step at a time; writing the chapters in random order as and when my mind forms a complete incident. **

**Also, I just reached a milestone of a 100 followers on tumblr! Thank you everyone for following me. I know I'm not the most interesting person on tumblr, but it means so much to have gained the support of so many people.**

**Leave a review, please! **

**Merry Christmas to everyone!**

**Lot's of love!**

**Anna**


	3. Chapter 3: Something Wicked

**This chapter is really short and I'm sorry for that. I was on holiday in China with my family and I honestly thought I could get some writing done during my free time. I failed at that though. I'm currently at Hong Kong airport and I wrote this in under half an hour so please excuse me if it's horrible. I promise to make up for it next time. My flight is approximately one and a half hours and I had some time to kill so I quickly typed out this bit. I am so glad the airport offers free wifi! **

**I'm sorry for rambling so much! I'm a nervous flyer and this is my outlet at the moment. **

**Please review and I promise to give you a better chapter next time!**

**xx**

**Anna**

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**A Dance of Swords: Part 3**

**Something Wicked This Way Comes**

It was winter again. The harsh winters that the kingdom dreaded. The snow fell from the heavens like a beautiful curse bestowed upon the misguided. He stood by the window of his father's study gazing at the art in nature, just like he did every winter. They said it would end soon, that the cherry blossoms would bloom and the world would smile again. It would be paradise again.

He still thought of it as his father's study even though it had officially become his several years ago. It reminded him of his father. There was nothing of his in there. He had his own chambers. His own haven. He stood by the window deep in thought, his hands shoved into the pockets of his simple trousers. His light white shirt tucked out of his pants, creased and worn. He didn't look much like a royal in that moment. He looked like every other common young man in the kingdom. It was the worry etched on his face that gave him an heir of royalty. It made him look older than his years. He rarely smiled and even when he did, it was brief. This was how it had been for years.

His train of thought was broken by the opening of the large doors. A young man walked in confidently, a scroll in his hand. His short blonde hair windswept and unruly, indicating that he had been out in the cold. He was still in his riding clothes that fitted him well. He looked like a king!

"Contemplating again, are we?" he asked with a smirk as he jumped onto the large mahogany desk. He grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and bit into it, his eyes shining with mirth.

"Tell me you have something important to say, Stefan." the king responded, sounding bored. "I truly hope that you didn't come to me just to steal my apples."

The young Duke Salvatore sighed and handed the scroll to the king. "They've seized the farm, just like you said they would. We found this nailed to the door. It had their seal on it. We found the girl hiding under a pile of hay in the barn. She is being brought to the castle as we speak. Mind you, she didn't come quietly. One would've thought she was being dragged to her death the way she was screaming her lungs out. Who would have thought a tiny little thing like that could be so…crude!"

Klaus smirked at the thought. He knew the girl in question. Well, he knew her from a distance. He had seen her one in the market place when he was in disguise, arguing with a vegetable vendor over something insignificant. He knew it would be quite a task to have her brought to the castle. He knew it would be even more bothersome for him to convince her to stay. She was trouble. She would burn the castle to the ground if she could.

"Why did you want to help her, Nik? I would have left the little brat to die, if I were king!" Stefan announced to the stone walls around them.

"But you aren't king, my friend." Klaus said as he moved to the armchair by the fire.

Stefan rose from his perch on the desk and made his way towards Klaus, still clutching the half eaten apple in his hand.

"Should I begin to address you as 'Your Highness' then?" he said cockily as he bowed low, exaggerating his every movement.

Klaus wacked him on the head and laughed heartily. "Do that and I'll have you beheaded at the town square!"

"Ah! The tyrant is finally living up to his name!" Stefan exclaimed as he dropped onto the opposite armchair, one leg hanging off the armrest. He looked at home in the study. Even more comfortable than Klaus. "What is it about this girl? She is nothing spectacular. And you've had your fair share of women before. Need I remind of all the brothels we visited?"

"Need I call Rebekah to give you a tongue lashing?" Klaus joked. "About the girl, I owed her protection. She needn't know this but I feel like I owe her some amount of stability. I was there when that family fell apart."

"Very well," Stefan said. "No need to call my wife over silly matters. Besides, she wouldn't dare give me a tongue lashing over my past. I could always remind her about her little obsession with Damon while we were growing up." He said, waggling his eyebrows playfully.

Klaus laughed at the memory. The banter between them always went down the similar path. It was one thing that kept him young and reminded him to laugh every once in a while. But it didn't last long. He had more pressing matters to attend to. At that moment, it was a certain blonde haired maid from the countryside who couldn't keep her mouth in check. He braced himself for the loud arguments that would be inevitable. He was doing this for her own well-being, he reminded himself as he marched out the doors of his father's study.

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**Lot's of love!**

**- Anna**


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